


Watercolor Heart

by NerdyPanda3126



Series: LBSC Sprint Fics [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, LBSC Sprint Fic Challenge, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyPanda3126/pseuds/NerdyPanda3126
Summary: Marinette shows Luka how mixing pink and blue together makes purple and he decides to ask an important question.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: LBSC Sprint Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978081
Comments: 30
Kudos: 141
Collections: LBSCSprintFicChallenge





	Watercolor Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [LBSC Sprint Fic Challenge.](https://lovebugs-and-snakecharmers.tumblr.com/post/628998346167762944/lbsc-sprint-fic-challenge-1)
> 
> Prompt: Pink and blue make purple

Marinette was tucked in front of him as they sat on his bed. She’d just gotten a new drawing program on her tablet and she was playing with the settings and the brushes and the colors. So many colors. She kept mixing colors with different brushes and showing him the result and getting more and more giddy with each variation. Right now, she was showing him the watercolor brush. 

“And then, see?” She pointed to the heart she’d drawn on the screen, blue on one side and pink on the other. As he watched, she used her stylus to blend the two colors into purple where they met. “Pink and blue make purple.” 

A smile tugged at his lips. “I thought red and blue made purple.” 

“Well, they do,” she started, picking out a primary red and blue to show him. “But see? It’s too dark, and it almost looks brown instead. For a true purple, pink—well, magenta, really—and this light blue—that’s cyan—blend the best. And if I make those colors darker...” 

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as she continued. He was only catching about half of what she was saying, but she wasn’t speaking to him as much as she was explaining to herself, and he was happy to be her sounding board. Listening to the cadences of her voice was enough for him.

“Luka?” She poked at his chest. She must’ve thought he had drifted off. 

“I’m listening.” 

“What do you hear?” she asked, turning back to her experiments and settling into his lap. She pressed her back against his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist. 

He loved that they’d been together long enough that she knew what he meant. He was listening to her talk, of course, but he was also listening to the music flowing from her. And, he noticed with some surprise, from him as well. The chords were wrapping together in his ears, blending in the middle, not unlike her watercolor heart. 

“Purple,” he said simply. 

“And what does purple sound like?” 

“Well, there’s a little bit of pink.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s bubbly and creative, vibrant and strong. Like a… pop song. Something you sing along to at the top of your lungs in the shower, then it gets stuck in your head the rest of the day.” 

“So I’m stuck in your head, is that it?” 

“Always.” 

She giggled and squirmed away from him, pulling away just enough to face him, a light pink dusting the tops of her cheeks. 

“And the blue…” She reached out to brush his hair out of his eyes. It fell back into place stubbornly. “The blue is… calm. Like still water. Cool and deep, and still a little mysterious.” She kissed the tip of his nose before turning around and settling back against him again. 

She started drawing something, in earnest it seemed, because she was quiet and thoughtful as she worked. He started playing with the ends of her pigtails absent-mindedly, and she reached back to undo her ribbons so he could run his fingers through her hair instead. He combed gently through it, working out the little knots that always found their way into the fine strands. When he was finished with that, he started working on a loose fishtail braid. Marinette hummed contentedly when she noticed.

“You didn’t answer my question, though,” she said after a while. 

“Didn’t I?” He finished the braid, then let it unravel itself, before he teased out the braided sections on the sides so her hair was loose again. 

She leaned her head back on his shoulder with a teasing smile playing over her lips. "You told me what pink sounded like, not purple." 

"Oh, I see,” he said with mock gravity. “Well I guess you’ll never know, then.” 

"Luka…” she pleaded, “please tell me?” 

“I happen to remember something about how blue was ‘mysterious.’” He smirked at her for good measure. 

She exaggerated a pout, then pulled away, curling over her tablet like she didn’t intend on cuddling him anymore. Well, if she wanted to tease him, two could play at that. He brushed her hair away from the nape of her neck, grazing his calloused fingertips against her soft skin in the process. She started to shiver, but stiffened her resolve and her shoulders. He leaned forward until his lips were just barely brushing the exposed skin. 

“You know I’m not great with words,” he whispered before he dropped a kiss to her shoulder. 

“Right. Coming from Mr. ‘clear as a musical note.’” 

He chuckled. Of course she remembered that. “You didn’t see me practicing that in front of a mirror every morning.” 

She scoffed lightly, but it was still a part of her implacable act. He shifted to try to see her drawing, but she shifted with him, subtly blocking him. 

“Seriously, ask Jules,” he continued. “She caught me kissing the mirror once. Had your name written in eyeliner on it with a lipstick heart around it, practiced writing Dupain-Cheng on all my notebooks, cried into my pillow every night, the whole shebang.”

She whirled to face him, tablet at the ready to whap his shoulder. “Luka Couffaine, you are so full of bullshit.” 

He pretended to cringe away, laughing, until she realized she’d let him win their unspoken battle. She'd turned back around. With a sigh and a soft smile, she set the tablet down and crawled forward into his arms again. As she nuzzled into his neck, he thanked his teenage self for taking the chance to tell Marinette how he felt. 

All joking aside, it was time to take another chance. 

“Do you really wanna know?” he asked. His heart started thudding like a bass drum in his chest. 

“Of course.” 

He counted off the rhythm of his heartbeat in his head. One and two and three and four and. Deep breath. “Marry me?” 

There was a pause. A deafening, intimidating, heart-stopping pause. Marinette pulled away to look at his face, but her grip tightened on his shirt. 

“What?” 

“I asked you-” 

“No, I heard you. But…” she let out a shaky breath. “You’re serious?”

He nodded and took her hand to lace her fingers through his. “That’s what purple sounds like to me. You and me. Together, for as long as you’ll have me. And you don’t have to answer now, or even soon, but-” 

“Yes,” she whispered, almost too quietly for him to hear. 

“Did you say…?” 

“Yes!” She lunged forward and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek, the side of his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder, anything within her reach. 

“Hang on, I don't-” he was cut off as her lips found his. He broke away, laughing. “I don’t have a ring.” 

She didn’t seem to care as she pulled his face back to hers.

When she finally broke away, leaving him breathless and seeing stars, she reached down to grab her tablet. 

“Neither do I,” she said, grinning. His head was still spinning from her kiss, but he managed to follow her pointed glance down to her screen. 

Wrapped around the watercolor heart on her screen, she’d written, “Will you marry me?” 

“But—that—” 

“You beat me to it by about a minute.” She giggled at the look on his face. 

He let out a slow breath, still processing, but his mouth was quicker than his brain for once. “Good thing I practiced writing Dupain-Cheng on all those notebooks.” 

The tablet was up in the 'whap' position again, but he ducked away, daring her to chase him with a smirk tossed over his shoulder, knowing full well he'd be glad to be caught. 


End file.
